Things We Do That Define Us
by Inthannon
Summary: Post 2x08, so don't read if you haven't seen the mid season finale. A brief one shot about how the leaders of the 100 might deal with the events of the episode. Bellamy POV. Some Bellarke hints.


So I've fallen into the 100 fandom not so much kicking and screaming as whooping with excitement. I watched the first episode when it first came out and was a bit 'Meh' and until people I follow on Tumblr started raving about it I didn't feel the need to watch any more of it. Man am I thankful to all those peeps who were raving. Now I have joined your ranks. We can all rave together.

This is something that follows from the midseason finale of season 2 so if you haven't seen 2x08 I recommend holding off on reading this one.

Feedback is always welcome!

Nope, don't own any of it.

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><p>Bellamy woke early. Earlier than he wanted to, but there was no chance of him falling back asleep thanks to the aggressive noises of wood being chopped not far from his tent. He had been late getting to bed with all that had happened the previous evening. He'd known Clarke Griffin was a strong woman; after all she had not only survived and flourished on Earth but also made sure that the rest of them did too. And he knew that she had killed before out of mercy but this was different. This time it had been Finn, the man she had cared about maybe even loved, the man who had broken her heart.<p>

He recalled her face as she walked back through the gate, the bloody knife still gripped in her hands coated with the life blood of Finn Collins. She had looked numb and broken and all he had wanted to do was to rush to her and hold her in his arms to protect her from the world that had caused this pain. But he couldn't because everyone was watching and because if he let go of Raven she would have ran to Clarke and done something she'd regret later.

It had taken a lot to hold Raven back, she had been fighting like someone possessed to get out of his grasp and reach Clarke, all the time spouting things that must have hurt her even more. As he held Raven back he saw Dr. Griffin rush to her daughter and lead her away. As she did this she glanced over her shoulder at him as if to tell him to hold Raven back. Like he was going to let her go when there was even the slightest chance that she might hurt Clarke.

They'd gone to Raven's tent where he'd finally released the grip he'd had on her arms. As soon as she was free, she had spun around and started beating her clenched fists against his chest, shouting at him about how could he have just stood there, how could he not have done anything to help Finn? She had called him a coward and a traitor and many worse things. He'd agreed silently that he had been a coward, but not in the way that she had meant it. All Bellamy could think about was that it should have been him to walk to that camp and give Finn a merciful death. It should have been him to take this burden from Clarke. He should have been the one with Finn's blood on his hands. To spare her. He'd said none of this to the raving woman in his arms as her rage finally turned into heaving sobs.

When she'd finally stopped sobbing as well he'd quietly suggested she go to bed and try to get some sleep. The words had barely escaped his mouth when hers had been pressed against his in an aggressive kiss accompanied by her hands going to his belt buckle. It had taken him longer than he liked to admit to untangle himself from her. To capture her wrists and keep them away from himself in order to gain some distance from her. She had just started to spout angry and hurt words at him again when Dr. Griffin had appeared at the tent and taken over from him. He'd wanted to ask about Clarke, but he known the Councillor wasn't his biggest fan so he'd left with just a brief nod of thanks at her. Outside Raven's tent he had paused to fix his belt and been able to hear her accusing the Doctor of raising a murderer.

Outside his tent the sound of wood being chopped started again, pulling him out of his gloomy thoughts. Sighing with irritation he got up and proceeded to get dressed before stalking out to dress down the person making such a racket at dawn.

The sun was just rising above the horizon, the extreme angle of the light and what was left of the night mist making the world look soft and mysterious. When he got to the area that had been cleared for chopping wood, he saw to his amazement a familiar mane of blonde hair swaying as she swung the big axe down on the log that was standing on the block in front of her. The crack of the wood splitting apart echoed across the camp in the still dawn air. It looked like the day was going to be beautiful. The woman in front of him paused to lift half of the log she had just chopped back onto the block and gripped the axe again. He could see the sweat that made her grey shirt darker and the strength of her body as she lifted the axe above her head and swung it down hard.

She paused to wipe sweat from her forehead and spoke suddenly:

"You don't have to stand guard over me Bellamy. I'm not planning on committing any murders today." Her tone was dry and clipped, trying to cover her pain.

"I'm not here to watch you. I wanted to sleep, but you woke me up with your chopping Princess." As soon as the last word left his mouth, he could see her stiffen up, the axe she had raised above her head again faltering for a moment before she dropped onto the ground next to the chopping block. She turned to him, her eyes a mess of sparking anger and tears that had broken through her control and were now running down her cheeks.

"Don't EVER call me that again!" she shouted in his face and made to rush past him.

Despite his surprise at her vehement reaction he took her by the arm and stopped her. She refused to turn back to look at him, but he could tell by the shaking of her shoulders and the uneven way she was breathing that she was now crying in earnest.

"I'm sorry…. Clarke." He let go of her arm, not wanting to hold her in his presence if she didn't want to be there. As soon as he let go, she sank onto her knees and buried her face in her hands, making the kind of sounds one might expect from a mortally wounded animal.

Cautiously, not knowing if she wanted to be comforted by him, he reached out a hand to touch her shoulder. She shuddered a little, but didn't move away. He crouched down and put his arm around her shoulder, pulling her to him. She came without a struggle, standing up supported by him as he moved them to a large tree stump a few meters away. He sat her down and kneeled in front of her, holding her small hands in his. They were ice cold despite the effort she had put into chopping wood.

They stayed like that for a long time, her head bent forwards, covered by a thick mane of golden hair, him kneeling in front of her like he was praying for her blessing.

"He called me that."

"I know. He started it."

"Yes… but he… he said… after… _thanks Princess_…" and her voice drowned in sobs again and Bellamy felt his heart sink at her sorrow. Not able to contain himself, he moved to sit next to her and pulled her against his shoulder, wanting to offer any comfort he could.

"You know it was for the best. There was nothing else to be done. I just… I just wish you didn't have to do it."

She looked up at him then, her eyes red and puffy, her face wet and splotched.

"No Bellamy. It _was_ something I had to do. He was there because of me. He killed those people because of_ me_. And I owed it to him to do what I could to… to make sure he didn't suffer any more." Her voice broke near the end and he could see the effort it took for her to hold it together. So instead of speaking any more, he drew her closer with a quiet "I know" and she pressed her face into his shoulder, muffling the sobs that took her over again.

He didn't know how long they sat there on that stump, but slowly her sobs died out and she became still next to him except for the occasional sniffle. He noticed that his thumb had been rubbing comforting circles against her hip where his arm was wrapped around her back. Before he could decide whether he ought to stop or keep doing it, Clarke shifted next to him, raising her head and looking out across the camp. He pulled his arm back as he took in the pensive look on her face.

"Lexa stopped them from killing me last night, but I think this might have done some damage to the peace effort. Do you think there's anything we can do to fix it?" her voice was quiet, contained, almost cold like she had shut off all emotion. Bellamy couldn't blame her for it, because they needed her, but wished she didn't have to be so hard. That she could stay the optimistic healer he had come to know.

"I think we should include your mother and Kane in this conversation." She looked at him sharply, surprised that he would even consider including the council members in the decision making. "Come on P- Clarke."

If she noticed the slip of his tongue, she didn't react in any noticeable way. Cursing himself silently in his head, he followed Clarke as she started making her way towards the council chambers. He swore to himself that he would never say that word again.


End file.
